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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863437">the pride of a father.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/freiline/pseuds/freiline'>freiline</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:47:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/freiline/pseuds/freiline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix asks his father Wolfgang Mittermeyer a question regarding his other father, Oskar von Reuenthal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dreaming of Distant Stars I</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the pride of a father.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heavily inspired by the pain I felt when I saw these artworks on Pixiv <a href="https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/81578617">here</a> and <a href="https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/82492007">here</a>, and so I'd be happy if everyone cried with me : )</p><p>I wrote this imagining that Felix is 20-ish, so Wolf &amp; Eva would be in their early 50s or so? As for what title Wolf now holds, he probably hasn't retired yet and is still (supreme) chief commander of the Imperial Fleet Navy. Also I read the English translation of the novels and because it's my main source (?), asides from how 'Reuenthal' and 'Mittermeyer' are spelt, I standardised and followed the titles and ranks etc used in the novels.</p><p>Once again (as I always do), I wrote this while hungry so pardon any mistakes I missed out. I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Father Wolf… do you think my father would have been proud of me?”</p><p>The man on the receiving end of the question, Prime Imperial Marshal Wolfgang Mittermeyer, did not know how to respond.</p><p>The answer was yes, of <em>course</em> the answer would have been yes. Two decades after the honey-haired man had the honour of calling his close friend’s son his own, Felix Mittermeyer (soon to change his name to Felix von Reuenthal) had graduated the Imperial Officer Academy at the second top of his class, only behind (and closely behind, it was worth noting) Crown Prince Alec von Lohengramm himself. A feat worthy of praise, to be sure, but Wolfgang cared little for such materialistic accomplishments. Of course he appreciated the hard work that Felix surely had put in to secure his position, but what Wolfgang prized more was how Felix had grown into such a fine man.</p><p>Courteous, kind, and earnest— such were only but a few of the qualities Felix embodied well, and Wolfgang liked to believe Evangeline and himself had some part in instilling such admirable traits onto him. But at the same time, there was no doubt that genetics had some influence in Felix’s innate nature. While both Wolfgang and Evangeline had little knowledge about Felix’s biological mother aside from the shade of her hair, they both knew Felix’s biological father, Oskar von Reuenthal, as though he were an extension of their family.</p><p>Confident and exceedingly competent were aspects that the young man, with hair so dark a brown it was almost black, undoubtedly inherited from the late Fleet Marshal Oskar von Reuenthal. Felix took pride in everything that he did, and excelled even in ventures he had little confidence to begin with. But he wasn’t overly ambitious, as cautioned by his father Wolfgang who told him the account of his biological father’s end, nor did he let it get to his head. Felix was always thinking things through and then giving it another thought before execution. The child of Fleet Marshal von Reuenthal, raised by Prime Imperial Marshal Mittermeyer. The product of the Twin Ramparts of the Imperial Navy. The two fathers Felix himself held in great repute and even greater admiration.</p><p>There was no question that Mittermeyer knew Oskar well enough to bear witness to the similarities the father and son shared; if there was anyone in the world Wolfgang would have called his brother, it would have been none other than Oskar von Reuenthal, after all. Oh, the many adventures they had embarked on together, the many arguments and banter they exchanged, the many stories and tales he passed on to Felix in the hopes of keeping the comrade he held so dear to him alive. Not just for Felix’s sake, but also for his own.</p><p>Wolfgang often humored himself with the notion that although Oskar may not have considered Felix’s character to be of great value as an accomplishment, perhaps he might have taken some comfort in the thought that Felix may have been what he could have become, if the circumstances of Oskar’s heritage were more in his favour and the world much kinder on his childhood.</p><p>If Oskar had grown up in the same warm and loving environment as Wolfgang and Evangeline ensured Felix did… would the tragedy that led to his demise have befallen upon him still? Wolfgang had little doubt that it was the treatment Oskar received from his father, the chorus of “You should have never been born” sung in fortissimo between bottles of liquor, that fostered the heterochromatic marshal’s incessant need to prove himself otherwise. “I am worthy of living”, his achievements would ‘boast’, “I am worthy of being born”. Would hubris still have paved the way towards his destruction in the absence of the need for accolades and titles? If so, would he be with them now, honouring Wolfgang and Evangeline with the title of Felix’s godparents while they themselves perhaps raised a child of their own alongside their ward, Heinrich Lambertz? Would Felix and his biological children have been akin to cousins, not bound by blood but by the brotherhood and camaraderie their fathers shared?</p><p>These were but daydreams that would never come to see the light of day and rise to the surface of reality. Instead they would remain where they were birthed, in the far recesses of Wolfgang’s mind, tucked away from everyone’s prying eyes. For although reality may at times be cruel, sometimes the most beautiful of dreams were the most horrifying of nightmares.</p><p>The honey-haired marshal hadn’t a clue as to what brought up the sudden question, but this was one of the few times Felix had brought upon a question on his own account with regards to his biological father. Not because of any negative connotation, but for the simple explanation that he never had much to ask about when Wolfgang and Evangeline were always at the ready with anecdotes to share. They were quick to let Felix know of his parentage once the young boy had the ability of comprehension, and there were reminders of Oskar’s presence in their life all over the house; pictures from Wolfgang and Evangeline’s wedding where Oskar was in attendance, pictures from the past of Wolfgang and Oskar crouched together with arms round each other’s shoulders, and even a small portrait of Oskar sat on top of Felix’s bedroom table.</p><p>Felix likened it to having a mother and two fathers. His mother Evangeline Mittermeyer, gentle in her teachings and firm in her reprimands. His biological father Oskar von Reuenthal, described by his parents to be a prideful man until the end who only bowed down to one person: his Kaiser, the late Kaiser Reinhard von Lohengramm. And the father who raised him, Wolfgang Mittermeyer, to be honest and loyal, sincere and of good character.</p><p>Felix looked more and more like his father Oskar with each passing day, both Wolfgang and Evangeline remarked fondly throughout his formative years. Even now he stood taller than his father Wolfgang, just as the late heterochromatic marshal did. “The splitting image of that damned Reuenthal come to haunt me”, Wolfgang would playfully quip. Sometimes, however, Felix would wonder if there was some truth to his father’s words, whenever the colour in his eyes would seem to dissipate as he spoke and what took its place was the shadow of grief and sorrow. Wondered if his honey-haired father saw him as a punishment for being one of the survivors at the end of the tragedy when so many of their comrades had fallen, one of which including the dark-haired marshal Felix shared so much in common with.</p><p>After a considerable pause, Wolfgang took a sip from his tea before finally responding. “Of course he would be proud.” He murmured with a soft smile on his lips, only to turn upwards at the corner as a warning for the mischief in his voice soon to come. “Although he might be disappointed to find you going against his words. I’ll hear his complaints in Valhalla, it’s punishment for that one insensitive remark he made in the past.”</p><p>“Don’t talk about Valhalla so soon, father, you’re still young!” Felix rebuked with a laugh before taking a sip from his tea as well.</p><p>‘<em>The Reuenthal line ends with me</em>’. Thus was the insensitive statement Oskar put out just as Evangeline walked into the room. A slightly inconsiderate thing to say in the presence of a married couple trying for children of their own, Oskar quickly realised, and so he gave his wordless apology in the form of a beautiful bouquet for Evangeline. Wolfgang always retold the story to Felix with a fond smile on his face, poking at his biological father for the slightly troubled look on his expression as he handed the bouquet for Wolfgang to pass on.</p><p>It was small anecdotes such as these that helped Felix formulate an image of his biological father in his mind. Beyond the rise of the Lohengramm Dynasty taught to them in the school, beyond the inked words on textbooks of his father's failed rebellion, it was the stories his father Wolfgang would retell in earnest glee that shaped and gave colour to the father that no longer lived.</p><p>When Felix one day came asking for permission to take on his father Oskar’s name, Wolfgang resolutely decided that it would be Oskar’s punishment—Felix stubbornly continuing the Reuenthal line, against Oskar’s previous declaration—for his insensitivity that one night as they shared glasses of wine together. Not that Felix had anything against the Mittermeyer name, of course, and nor was he displeased by his parents. On the contrary, he knew with one hundred percent conviction that the love his parents had for him was beyond the reach of mere letters; they were a family regardless of what was attached behind their given name, much like how his father Wolfgang considered his father Oskar a brother for all intents and purposes.</p><p>Regardless of how he cared little for family names, Felix had much to prove to Oskar. He wanted to prove to his father in Valhalla that the von Reuenthal line was no longer cursed, or was never cursed to begin with. All thanks to the brother he left behind and his loving wife, who raised Felix into the man he now was. He was certain that his honey-haired father had other selfish agendas for encouraging Felix’s decision, but the one thing they shared was the desire to honour the man who passed on long before his time.</p><p>A doorbell pierced through both of their thoughts and they soon heard Evangeline rush to answer the door. Unsurprisingly, the lady of the house eventually came to them in the study to inform Felix of Crown Prince Alec’s arrival, urging him not to keep the Prince waiting any longer especially after he had come all the way to personally bring him to the palace.</p><p>“He can wait for a while if he really wants to selfishly drag me away to play with him on our <em>one</em> day off,” Felix cheekily rebuked but nevertheless he rose to his feet, walking over to the door and giving his mother a peck on the cheek before he stepped into the hallway.</p><p>Wolfgang shouted as Felix left the room. “Felix! Don’t keep the Prince waiting!”</p><p>“I know, I know!” He could almost <em>hear</em> Felix wave him off. “I’ll quickly get changed!”</p><p>Wolfgang let out a soft sigh that was in contrast to the smile now on his lips, the view of which was obstructed by the cup now raised up once more as he finished off the rest of his tea. Evangeline knew her husband well, however, and simply gazed upon him affectionately as she stepped into the study and approached him. She took a seat on the chair Felix earlier sat on, right across from Wolfgang, and rested her hands upon her lap.</p><p>“It’s nice that the Prince has a friend in Felix.” Evangeline murmured softly.</p><p>‘<em>Just as Kaiser Reinhard had Admiral Kircheis</em>’ hung heavy in the air but none of them chose to breathe life into it. How many a time had that already been said, not just by the married couple but by everyone that came to know of the late Reinhard von Lohengramm and the late Siegfried Kircheis? Plenty enough, Wolfgang concluded, and so he resolved to allow the dead to rest in peace.</p><p>He had Oskar von Reuenthal once too, and the four of them shared a friendship built upon common interest and committed loyalty. But one of them had passed through the gates of Valhalla ahead of the other three, and then another ahead of the other two, and then another ahead of the only one left. The only one left to pass on the tales of the Twin Ramparts of the Imperial Navy, and the two founders of the Lohengramm Dynasty.</p><p>They soon heard Felix announce his departure along with a series of brisk and heavy footsteps. “Mother, Father! I’m leaving now!” There was no doubt Felix was now running towards the front door where Prince Alec awaited; just as they had instructed, he hadn't kept the Prince waiting for too long, however they were certain that Felix too was eager to spend time with his best friend.</p><p>“Give our regards to the Kaiserin!” Wolfgang called back as Evangeline chuckled to herself and they heard the door close shut.</p><p>The honey-haired marshal gazed down and stared at the tea leaves stuck to the bottom of his now emptied cup. Perhaps if he had some knowledge in the art of divination he could predict what lies ahead of them, but for now he was content with the happiness peace had finally brought.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>EDIT:</b> I know Alec has been the kaiser since Reinhard's death, however it just felt a little weird for me and therefore I referred to him as the prince. I know I know, I promise in future fanfics I will follow canon as accurately as possible and I will henceforth refer to him as the kaiser. Also, it momentarily escaped me that (Wolfgang) Mittermeyer was promoted, upon Reinhard's death, to Prime Imperial Marshal so I've since made that change. If I missed it somewhere, please just know that he's now Prime Imperial Marshal!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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